Four Horsemen
by jusk
Summary: AU in which Derek, Jackson, Lydia, and Stiles are the Four Horsemen. They are assigned on a new mission in little Beacon Hills from the 'Elders'. They plan to execute this pursuit having a little fun while their at it.
1. Chapter 1

"Death is not the greatest of evils it is worse to want to die and not be able to. For I am Death," Said the first. The red eyes gave the young boy strong, authoring power. The aura that surrounds him is unmistakably known. Decay settles under his mark as he rub circles onto the wooden table with his index finger. Irrevocably, Stiles, is the underlying true death, the end to all creation. Stiles lean back into the deep mahogany chair. He looks straight ahead with a soft stare as he cross his arms over his chest.

"And the firstborn of the poor shall feed, and the needy shall lay down in safety: and I will kill thy root with Famine and he shall slay thy remnant. Of my essence, they call me Famine," Feministic as it comes, the lady sits upright. Her composure is fixated, pushing her breast outward. Her hands join together in a tight clasps in front of her. Lydia feels the hunger of every soul who she has cast her spell on and can't help but to give a wicked, sly smirk at their want. She knows they'll always want, but her, they'll never have. Her crystalline blue eyes tells of what beautiful danger she is.

"And I will smite the inhabitants of this city, both man and beast. They shall die of great Pestilence, for I am he," Jackson speaks eerily. He blows a little breath over the table in front of him, watching as it boils with disease. The epidemics of the world are caused by him. The sickly emerald tint of his eyes offers the troubles to those in his presence. He runs a hand through his hair, blowing tobacco smoke from his mouth. His eyes are met with the last to speak.

"Only the dead have seen the end of War. I am it," The man says. Over the span of time, the onslaught of his disaster was known. It will always be known, from then to evermore. For there isn't an end to his reign until the affairs of mankind cease. Royally, Derek holds unnatural devastation in his amethyst eyes. They pulse with energy to fight, energy to retaliate, energy to bring enemies to each other's end, and most of all the energy to slaughter.

"I am thy horseman. Granted with honor, I am the delivered end," The four spoke in unison.

"Now, now. Enough of formalities and sweet, sweet pleasantries. I have a plan for the four of you," The cloaked man said walking in the grand room. "I need a few deeds to be done in little Beacon Hills, California, US. It requires all of you as you probably already know since you're all present,"

"That's my domain. I will only warn you all once to stay in your corner of the earth, "Derek growls out looking at the man cloaked in dark," Whatever needs to be done I am the one to do so,"

"C'Mon. Let's not be so hostile. We haven't seen each other in what, a millennia? Why not work together, plus the last time I checked, the world is round," Stiles speaks. His voice was monolingual; like no life ever existed in him.

"Still see the sarcasm of our old friend is still there," Lydia chimes in. She flips her beautiful strawberry-blonde hair over her shoulder, extending her arm outward. Placing her cold right hand above Derek's left, she gives him a pleading look. "It would do us all some good, seeing as how things were left at a bad part the last time,"

"Thousands of apologies on my behalf," the cloaked man said. "I intend to be a simple this time around. There's a scroll I need. A teenage psychic holds it, yet I do not know who she is. The seer cannot see you coming, yet she is aware of the powers of others to an extent. Be discrete as possible. If you are up to the tasks the other elders and I are ready to release you from your binds. I know this all seems rushed, but we have a dire need for it. Let me tell you now, this is one of the most dangerous jobs we're sending you in on. For the future she holds in secret is graver than you four,"

"I'm all in. I don't know about the rest of you, but my hands are _itching_ to get dirty," Jackson said. His emerald eyes are glowing with anticipation. Lydia nods, confirming her place along with Jackson. The cloaked man hides well his visage as he glances between the Death and War stare down. Derek stands strong against this assignment if he isn't the one to do it himself. All the while, the others are so eager to take part as a team. They seek to awaken their dormant reign on the world. The glowing red eyes speak of an apology as the quiet room grows with silent anticipation.

"We have reached a three fourths compromise. Send us in," Says Stiles. A map of the world covers the square table the four sit at. At the head stands the cloaked man who is in front of a door, and on the left sits Jackson then Stiles. Derek sits opposite of Jackson, leaving Lydia seating across from Stiles. A small burn begins to smoke in the state of California somewhere in the lower southeast. The cloaked figure turns and leave through the door that is lighted by an ember glow. "Decisions, decisions," Death speaks eying the burn in which it tells where they're going to be located.

"See you boys in due time," Famine says swirling into a blue dust until she is completely gone. The wink she left behind has them all wishing for things to happen with the seductive witch.

"Well, with these binds finally being lifted, I can speak only for myself when I say that I'm going to enjoy this _much_ _more_ than you will," He sickly kisses the air to the remaining horsemen disappearing. The puff of green smoke lingers as the two men dagger each other with their glares.

"I can't wait till I bring these humans to their knees. Try not to self-destruct. K?" Stiles says getting up. Stiles looks at the map of a table and extends his hand. The wooden table starts to burn and a laugh erupts from the other side of the room.

"Must you take out the table too? Grow up," Derek says to him. Stiles glowing red orbs turn to look diagonally down at the man who questions his move.

"I bet it sickens you that someone-_- something _like me was created. Something younger, smarter, and even more powerful than the first. I know it does- cause if something came along that was better than me, I wouldn't be too happy either" With a flick of his wrist Death is able to make the table disintegrate in seconds.

"Just to think I was beginning to like that table." Stiles shrugs sickly and makes his way to round the chair Derek sits in. "Don't you dare touch me, Death," Circling Derek in his chair, Stiles stand at ease behind him gripping the mahogany chair shoulders. He makes it crack, speeding up the lifetime of the useful furniture making it crumble under his hands. Derek takes a stand and looks clearly annoyed at Stiles for almost bringing him to his ass.

"You know, for you being war I seem to be more taunting than you. More provocative for such a... Passive being? I mean, after all I am Death." He smiles. Derek quickly extends his arm straight forward, summoning a sword. The tip of his bronzed sword is etched at Stiles throat, growing slowly as he stands there. The drawn blood drips on the sword making it rust. A smirk comes to show on Deaths lips as his red eyes stare in the amethyst orbs. "Decapitation is so, _so_, old. My friend, I very much do enjoy your torture better. I'm a masochist at heart," Stiles makes a hungry growling sound snapping his teeth at Derek.

"Enough of games. This makes it easy, don't want to waste my time," Derek says retracting his arm to take a full swing at the others neck. Stiles raises his left arm to deflect the impact of the sword. The sword shatters into what seems like millions of small purple hued diamonds. Too quick to react, Derek is sent flying with a kick from Stiles. Landing in a crouching position War looks up astonished and throws two piercing sai towards Death. Derek stands, slowly stalking towards the boy who is pinned on the wall with striking silver sai through his shoulders. The base handle is laced with runes glowing purple, keeping Death advances on the weapons at bay. He twirls a modern flanged mace in his hands that appears from purple smoke. Death hands are burning as he attempts to fish out the blades in his shoulder. Derek has him, but before Derek can take another step lightning strikes inverting Stiles body to a transparent red showing his skeletal figure before he's gone. War drops the weapon he holds making it dissolve before it hits the ground. He walks to retrieve the sai that still attached to the wall. He wipes clean the boiling blood from his blades and place them into his sides. He looks around before he disappears within a blink of the eye, leaving behind a resounding noise of a bomb.


	2. Famine

She gleamed her electric, glowing eyes upon her entrance at the Four's new manor. She dropped her luggage almost instantly as she walked into the veil of the new, yet old fashioned English house. The suit cases made a thickened thud sound as it met the floor. She quirked her lips and her placed her hands on her hip and model walked around the front of the house. She slid her index over the aged wood. She smiled threateningly as she walked passed the other entryway which looked to be a living room.

"Look who decided to finally show up," Stiles said. He came down the staircase and trailed his hand on the banister. "Getting a feel for things I see,"

She looked not into his vigorous crimson red eyes, but into a deep auburn. She's not sure if the euphemism was meant to her markings or getting familiar with her surrounding's. "_Ohhh_, the things you still haven't learned yet young one,"

"I'm catching on-"

"Would you be a doll and fetch my bags for me? I almost broke half of a _nail_ on the way in," She spoke low in hurt. She watched him in curiosity as he disappeared with the blink of an eye. Stiles appeared behind Lydia and picked up the cases full of surprises. She wondered if he feel her claim on her bags but he just kept his marched up the steps.

"The elders want us to change for what is socially accepted for human teenage standards," Jackson speaks from a different room down the way. She walks closer and sees into a section of the house fully quipped with glass.

_'Elegant sunroom,'_ she thinks. She walks in and flips her hair as she take a seat across from the sickly green lord. "What does that imposes?" Lydia asked. She rubbed her palm on the arm of the chair and stared into the glass table. Stiles words taunted her mind. She tried to decipher what he couldn't have meant, but in this world...

"It means we take on our human appearances, being normal, no exposing ourselves before its all blown to bits," Jackson huffed out tired. "Same rules as always basically,"

"But of course," Lydia fluttered her eyes as they changed from an electric blue to a hazel. That bright blue stayed prominent along the outside of her iris.

"That also means to be regular teenagers. _Not_ some high maintenance stripper or escort,"

"Just _what_ are you implying? Because last time _I_ checked, you were in the wrong. Right when I had her, you tried to finish the job yourself," Lydia said. "So why are you giving me the lessons from which I learned eons ago? I may be a strong, stubborn woman, but I know what my assignment is and what I have to do. But do forget, I'm the oldest, and I'll sweep you from under your feet if you reckon to get in my way," Lydia rises. She reigned her anger and pulled Jackson to his feet without moving an arm. "Kiss me," she commanded. Jackson indisposed chapped lips are briefly touched hers.

Lydia feels the force of that vacuum force deep within the pit of her stomach as it sucked whatever Jackson has into her. He leaned back trying to get away. He managed to stand upright from which he had been pulled up previously. Lydia eyes opened to a blazing blue as the green smoky essence from Jackson flowed into her mouth. It begun to slow just before she stopped. Jackson stood in a nauseous stand; too light headed and weak to move.

"My assignment is different, Pestilence. Stand in a condescending way, and I will bring you to your _knees_," Lydia spoke as she changed her eyes back to that humanely, hazel blue.

She placed her manicured hands on her hips and blew Jackson a kiss. He fell over as she turned on her heels and walked out of the sunroom. Lydia darted her eyes around as she leaves the room and walk pass a wooden dining table. She went to what appeared to be the kitchen. She stalks around the island and trailed her fingers around every edge of the kitchen she touched. On her exit, she did the same; caressed the wooden objects that she passed.

She snapped her head to the sun room and saw that Jackson was still out cold. She continued to trace her finger up the staircase, and found places to mark on random picture frames, spots on the wall, and the banister Stiles marked. She felt the slight burn from his claim. She paused and looked deeper into the spot. She could she his claim burrowed deep and beginning to spread. To her, Death is a lot younger than her. She stood there for a second and reconsidered how much he does know.

_'Maybe he doesn't know what he's doing,_' She thought. _'He shouldn't be able to know how to do that if the others haven't learned that trick, right?'_

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**AN: Long update I know. Didn't know if I were going to continue with this fic or not. Sorry, ? And the house is the one used from Charmed if anyone seen the show and was a bit confused.**


	3. Death

With the blink of an eye Stiles transported himself behind Lydia to pick up her bags. Between her rants and raves he just picked up her bags without another word. He felt a slight sting on the handles but paid it no mind as he knew it was probably one of tricks or charms on the bars. He went up the staircase and skipped every other step to hurry. Once he reached the second level he hurried passed the first few doors, disregarded the fact that War had left his door wide open as he read a book.

"Still doing whatever the wicked witch asks I see," Death heard the older man say. He continued to make his way until he rounded the end of the hall leaving the last room in solitary. He got creepy vibes as he looked at the door that would lead up to the attack and just kicked open the door to Lydia's room. He threw her stuff on the bed and walked out.

"Like the lap dog you are," Stiles heard Derek say as he passed his room again. A fiery rage began to rise in the deepest part of his stomach which caused him to stop from going back down to the main floor. Death turned on his heels and took the few steps until he stood in the doorway of Wars room. Purple smoke was released from his burning incense in the room; a strong cinnamon and pepper smell.

"Did you happen to say something?" Stiles asked cupping his palm around his ear. Derek not once looked up from his book as he spoke.

"Since you joined us, you've done every command she has thrown at you. Why? She isn't your boss," Derek said as he continued to read his book.

"Outa the kindness of my heart?" Stiles retorted.

"We have no heart, if we do yours would've been made of ash and despair," War said in amusement. He rather subtly looked from his book so he knows his smirk would show. "Not to mention how she has it against us. Waste to build a facade of a relationship with the witch," He finished looking at his book.

"Well sorry I can't read people like an open book Mr. Badass,"

"I beg to differ. You might be the youngest, yet you aren't naive. You have a few plans twisting in your head. But just know I'm ahead of you both. Shame Pestilence has no idea, though he is the weakest link,"

Death stared at War as he tried to pry into his mind. He couldn't get passed the barrier surround Derek's thoughts so he decided another approach. Stiles walked towards the bed and looked at Derek's bare crossed feet. He untangled them and yanked Derek down by the calves. Derek's hamstrings were flushed against Stiles' Adonis belt line. War flushed and kicked Stiles on his chest sending him out of the purple room. Stiles floated in air slowly catching his fall. When he landed he was in a three point crouching stance. Deaths eyes blazed red as he tried to reign his power.

Derek stood quick, grabbing his book pulling a pin that appeared to be sticking out of the seal. He tossed the ticking book towards Death. The door slammed with a pulsing purplish light as the now grenade exited the room. Stiles red eyes followed it as slowly passed his face by inches and stuck itself into the wall. His eyes widened as he leapt sideways hearing the ticking stop. His ears rung and when his eyes opened he managed to transport himself back into his room. Part if his side took damage from the grenade that hurt like shit. He took in his black and dark crimson red room as he waited for the healing to begin. A prickled smirk appeared on his lips as he knew he got a piece from Wars head, it maybe a small bit, but he still got it. He lied there on his panther pattern rug and smiled at the smokey ceiling, holding his side.

He knew war had an escape plan from this whole horseman legacy.

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**Really didn't know how I wanted this chapters middle to go, but I had my beginning and ending already written. Piecing it together took its toll. Sorry for the wait. I'll make it up didn't want you to wait any longer.**


End file.
